


At Your Own Reflection

by fortymaliks



Category: One Direction (Band), Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:57:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortymaliks/pseuds/fortymaliks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is... Harry Styles/Jack Harries/Finn Harries. I'm so sorry. But they're adorable British identical twins, and. This is mostly porn, so.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“This is going to come off as very peculiar, maybe,” Jack had muttered into his ear, and Harry had stopped mouthing at the salty skin of Jack’s collarbone just long enough to see his blush reach his cheeks, “but I have a brother?”</i></p><p>  <i>“That’s not strange, mate,” Harry had laughed, pressing his lips to Jack’s skin again, pulling their hips flush together. “I’ve got a sister, myself. Not something I want to talk about when I’m trying to get off, though.”</i></p><p>  <i>Jack had groaned, hands gripping the back of Harry’s shirt as he’d pushed into Harry’s grip. “Yeah, well. That’s where we’re different.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	At Your Own Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I wrote Harry Styles/The Harries Twins. Because like. Identical twins. Gorgeous, hilarious, British identical twins. They're youtube famous, their channel is called JacksGap, and you're probably going to need to watch all of their videos immediately if you haven't yet. Not that you need to watch them to read this, but just to survive in life. My favorite video of theirs is [this one in which Tyler Oakley teaches them gay slang](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rT07IMqYEdE) (and Jack says he'd like a girl to sit on his face and Finn gets scandalized). Yeah. [Just love them, okay?](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FJlvwkBPFRk/UMy67iYnCsI/AAAAAAAABNc/6TzR0ebRAxg/s1600/tumblr_melkacD4vy1rmch8wo1_500.gif)
> 
>   
>   
> This is Jack and Finn.
> 
> I don't really ever write porn, but I couldn't not, so. Tell me how I did for a first try.
> 
> Also, [Maoam's](http://p.twimg.com/AywfEM9CIAA-5jd.jpg:large) are these candies that Jack is obsessed with.

“I’ll get some more drinks, then,” Jack says, sauntering out of the room to the one adjacent. Harry lets himself sink into the bed where he’s sitting. He’s had quite a few drinks already, rum tonight, and he can feel the heat of it flowing through his veins. He’s blinking slower than he usually would be. He knows that when he starts talking again it’ll drag and rumble. Louis makes fun of him even more when he gets like this, alcohol making his speech lazier and deeper than its usual snail’s pace.

Louis isn’t here now, though. The other twin is, however, Finn, he thinks. And yeah, that’s. Twins. Identical fucking twins.

He’d been there when his brother had unlocked the door of their hotel room. His eyebrows had shot up as Jack had pushed his way by, throwing out a, “Finn, it’s Harry Styles”. Almost, Harry had noted, as if he had been looking for a pat on the back.

He’d gotten it, Harry knew, when Finn had finally managed to school his face back into nonchalance, folding his arms in front of him.

“Well,” Finn had said, stepping back to let Harry inside, “I told you to pull someone fit this time. Looks like you’ve managed it.”

“Heyyy,” Harry had drawled, letting the word reverberate in his chest, “I’m not that easy.”

“That’s not what I’ve read,” Finn had smirked, and Jack appeared again, without his jacket.

“The bed is this way,” Jack had told them both, motioning toward a door off to the side of the suite. “And Harry, you can give up the pretense right about now. I know what I look like. And there’s two of me.”

Harry’s a smarter person than most people give him credit for, so he had followed the twins inside.

Now that Jack’s excused himself to rummage through the mini fridge, Finn’s watching him, eyes careful.

Harry had spent the night at a party hosted by the BBC, having gone with Nick for the promise of drinks and good people. He’d already had a drink in his hand and was in the middle of a conversation with Matt Fincham when Nick had stumbled over with his arm around Dan Howell and a group of bright-eyed kids in tow.

Harry, being a bright-eyed kid himself, had grinned at the lot of them. He’d met Dan a few times, when he’d interviewed the band. He didn’t recognize the others, though, and introductions had barely been made when Jack slung an arm over Harry’s shoulders and asked if he’d ever tried Maoams before. (“Another bloody youtuber, can you imagine, Styles! The ways these children get famous these days, it's ridiculous!” Nick had winked at Harry, and the group of them had burst into laughter.)

Harry hadn’t ever heard of a Maoam, but since Jack had produced a fistful of candy from the pocket of his jacket, Harry figured he was a good bloke to know.

A few more drinks, a few DJ sets, and some dancing that Harry knew he’d regret, and he’d let Jack pull him into the toilets and lock the door behind them.

“This is going to come off as very peculiar, maybe,” Jack had muttered into his ear, and Harry had stopped mouthing at the salty skin of Jack’s collarbone just long enough to see his blush reach his cheeks, “but I have a brother?”

“That’s not strange, mate,” Harry had laughed, pressing his lips to Jack’s skin again, pulling their hips flush together. “I’ve got a sister, myself. Not something I want to talk about when I’m trying to get off, though.”

Jack had groaned, hands gripping the back of Harry’s shirt as he’d pushed into Harry’s grip. “Yeah, well. That’s where we’re different.”

If he’d had less to drink, maybe, or if Harry hadn’t spent the last few hours wondering what Jack’s freckles tasted like, he might have said no. Instead, when Jack had explained to Harry that sometimes he and his brother pick up together, he’d found himself asking whether Jack’s brother was as fit as he was.

Jack had laughed out loud, shoving Harry out of the loo, and pulling his phone out to call for a car.

He’d found Nick, told him that they were leaving, and Nick had smirked. “Whatever happened to getting off in the toilets, like we did back in my day?”

“He says he’s got a brother,” Harry had explained, and Nick had let out a sudden bark of gleeful laughter.

“Brilliant! Cheers, Harry Styles.”

“Thanks?” Harry had been confused, because it’s not like he and Nick weren’t particularly laddy, but he’d definitely gotten off with siblings before, and he’d been pretty sure he’d told Nick about it.

“Have you not seen their videos, then?” Nick had asked, still chuckling softly, and when Harry had shook his head no, he’d reached up to muss a hand through his curls.

“Oh, love,” Nick had said, dodging Harry’s hand where it tried to bat his away. “You are in for a treat.”

He’d followed Jack into the car that pulled up for them, and ignored Nick’s text that said, “Get some bloody pictures for me xx”.

Finn’s still staring at him, though, from across the room. He’s leaning against the wall, sizing Harry up, apparently, and Harry’s pretty used to scrutiny, but it’s not usually one on one like this. He’s only known this guy for a few minutes, and Jack for a few hours, and he thinks vaguely that if they took all their clothes off and tried to trick him, he definitely wouldn’t be able to tell who’s who. He really hopes that they don’t do that. Trick him, that is. He’s definitely banking on them both being naked in the near future.

Jack comes back moments later, though, throwing a quart of Grey Goose on the bed beside Harry. All of his worries dissipate when Jack grins and climbs on the bed after it, loose limbed. Jack’s drunk, the same as Harry, and his brother, Finn, who’d apparently spent the night in the hotel room watching bloody Discovery channel or something, is a lot more sober. He won’t have any trouble telling the two of them apart that way.

Harry is spared a moment of Finn’s intense gaze when it flicks to his brother on the bed. He doesn’t think he imagines the way his eyes narrow when Jack puts his hands on Harry; one gripping his bicep, the other resting at the small of his back. Jack pulls until Harry is twisted around, one leg on the bed and one still dangling over the side. That’s as far as it goes, though, because Jack’s still got one eye on Finn, as if waiting for a signal.

Finn pushes off the wall slightly, finally, taking a step towards the bed. It’s as if he wants to hold out, still not sure about Harry, but he can’t quite relax knowing that Jack’s on the bed, too. It’s interesting, and if he weren’t drunk and otherwise occupied, he might contemplate the jealousy that’s coming off of Finn in waves.

“Now that you’ve brought me home a popstar, what exactly do I get to do with him?” Finn tilts his head slightly when he asks, and Harry swallows down his “anything you want”.

Jack grins, letting a hand fall to Harry’s thigh. He scratches there with his fingernails, lightly, and Harry shivers. He’s possibly more on the edge than he’d thought. Jack’s continues to rake his nails across Harry’s jeans, and Harry feels his sense of urgency ramp up several levels. He can’t help the small noise that falls out of his lips, soft, but enough to drag Finn’s attention to it. Jack, though. Jack’s eyes don’t leave his brother.

“Who says I brought him home for you? Maybe I’ve brought him home for my very own. Since you’ve been surly all evening, and all,” He ends his words by digging his fingers in more firmly, gripping Harry’s thigh, and this time, Harry groans and spreads his legs wider.

Finn’s on the bed before Harry even has a chance to register that he’s moved, and he’s pushing Jack so that he falls back on the bed, pulling his hands off of Harry. Harry watches, rapt, as Finn climbs over his brother. He pins him to the bed, sitting on his thighs and pushing at his chest to keep him down.

“You’re such a fucking twat, you know that?”

“And what if I do?” Jack says around a smirk. Finn’s physically holding him down, but Harry can see that Jack is exactly where he wants to be.

“Shut the fuck up,” Finn says, and then he surges forward and crushes his mouth to Jack’s, cutting off his “make me” with a biting kiss.

They’re mirror images of each other, and as he watches the way Jack’s teeth catch Finn’s bottom lip, the way Finn pushes a hand into Jack’s hair, Harry thinks that this is maybe the hottest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing in person.

“Off, off, get your fucking shirt off,” Jack’s gasping against Finn’s lips, pulling desperately at the fabric of Finn’s t-shirt. When they part so that Jack can yank it up and off, Harry can see how slick their lips look, Jack’s lips beginning to plump up from the wet press of his brother’s mouth.

Harry shakes out of it, though, because yeah, watching is great, watching is fucking fantastic, actually, but Harry’s always been more of a participating kind of guy.

He strips his shirt up and over his head, tossing it on the floor in the same direction that Finn’s had gone, and starts working on the button to his trousers. By the time he’s down to his pants, lazily palming himself through them as he glances back to the twins, Finn’s staring at him. Jack’s panting into his brother’s skin, head on his shoulder, like he’s just ran a marathon. Harry shrugs at him, relishing the way Finn’s eyes widen as he hooks his fingers inside the elastic waistband of his pants and pushes them off, too.

“Fuck,” Finn breathes, and Jack chuckles, the sound muffled, before he lifts his head slightly.

“Kiss him, Finn. His mouth, holy fuck,” Jack lays back, throws a lazy hand towards Harry. Finn glances between the two, torn for a moment, before climbing carefully over to Harry. He slides a palm up Harry’s chest, slowly, like he’s letting Harry have a chance to back out. Harry’s not sure when tonight he’s ever given either of them the impression that he’s about to back out of this. Just so that he’s clear, though, he lets Finn take his time, and his palm continues up over his shoulder and behind Harry’s neck, curling around and pressing. He raises an eyebrow, leans in slightly, questioning.

Harry whimpers; it’s been ages since the party and Jack had promised him... well, nothing, technically, no promises were made. Sex was implied, though and Harry’s been hard for a while now. He’s ready to go. Finn’s hand tightens around the back of Harry’s neck at the sound, and he pulls him in and presses their mouths together.

Harry doesn’t know if he can taste Jack in Finn’s mouth, or whether they taste remarkably similar, but either way, he opens for the press of Finn’s tongue. He let’s Finn lick inside, whimpers again. Harry’s not shy about the sounds he makes; he’s a fucking popstar, his voice has always been his best asset. He is a little bashful at the way his hips jerk into Finn’s, though, seeking friction on their own accord. Finn’s without his shirt, but other than that he’s fully dressed, and Harry’s completely naked, which just won’t do.

“Lose these,” Harry says, biting at Finn’s mouth as he pulls off, slipping long, sure fingers under the waist of Finn’s trousers. Finn sits backwards to let Harry unfasten the button in the front, and suddenly Jack is there, wrapping his arms around Finn from behind to help. The two of them make quick work of the zipper, and soon Finn is pressing against Harry, skin on skin.

Harry falls backwards, pulling Finn top of him, letting his legs part so that he can slip a knee between them and the press feels that much better. Finn starts moving, little circles with his hips, and Harry’s head falls back against the bed. He sees Jack behind his brother just as he lets his eyes slip closed, frantically pulling at his clothing. He doesn’t see much after that, though, because Finn’s really fucking good at this, pressing his leg up just right so that Harry’s cock catches in the curve where his thigh meets his groin. He’s propped himself up over Harry, arms straining as he works his hips in controlled movements. Harry can feel the hard press of Finn’s erection against his stomach, and it makes him rock up to meet Finn on every thrust.

“Alright, alright,” Jack says, and Harry opens his eyes in time to see his hands come around to still Finn’s jerking hips. Jack pulls backwards slightly, and Finn lifts over, just enough to break contact. He groans, lowering his forehead down to Harry’s, kissing softly at Harry’s mouth.

“You need to show a bit more control if you’re going to actually fuck him tonight, love.” Jack crawls up the bed to lay beside Harry, glancing at his face as he says the words, as if he’s looking for permission.

“It’s not nice to assume, Jack,” Finn starts, but Harry’s already nodding, suddenly fully hard with how much he wants it.

“Yeah, holy fuck, _yes_ ,” he says, as his hips buck off the bed involuntarily.

“Fuck,” Finn manages, “Fuck. Okay.” He glances around, frantic, like he’s trying to decide on a course of action. He’s saved from having to make any decisions when Jack tosses him a bottle of lube and a condom.

“I wanna see you open him up, Finn,” Jack says lazily, as he nuzzles into Harry’s neck. “Take your time, for a change.”

Jack moves Harry to the side, settling down in the middle of the bed. He pulls Harry into his lap, his back resting against his chest, hooking his chin over Harry’s shoulder.

Finn grasps Harry by the hips, pulls them towards him on the bed, pulling him out of Jack’s grip just a little. He feels like he’s in the middle of a tug-of-war between the two of them, but he’s not what neither of them really wants, in the end. He’s happy to be there, though.

Finn hitches his hips up, pushes his legs out of the way and sets to work. The first press of a finger is light, letting him adjust to the feeling, before it’s pushing in deeper, dragging slowly.

“Holy fuck, more,” Harry moans, because while he sleeps with women more than men, it’s easier, he loves getting fucked. He loves the stretch and the burn. Jack chuckles softly, and Harry feels him reach down and wrap a hand around Harry where he’s gone a little soft. He starts pulling in lazy strokes, and Harry knows it won’t be long before he’s hard again, especially since Finn’s pressing another finger inside, crooking them up and dragging them just right. It sends bright sparks of pleasure across his vision, and when Finn adds a third finger, the burn is just a dull ache that Harry can’t get enough of.

It doesn’t take long before he’s moaning, making long, drawn out sounds as Jack and Finn both speed up; Jack’s fingers slipping across his cock, gathering the precome that’s pooled on Harry’s stomach to help the glide. Finn’s fingers are working quickly inside him now, stretching and dragging, and he’s pressing kisses across Harry’s inner thigh, whispering his “shhh, baby, we got you” into the skin there as he does it. Harry’s more than ready, he is, he needs Finn to fuck him now, before he comes, or passes out.

He can’t help the whine that falls off his lips when he feels Finn’s fingers slide out, but Jack’s mouthing at his neck, now, shushing him, and raking his fingers through Harry’s curls. Harry hears the soft sound of the condom wrapper and he forces his eyes open to watch Finn roll it onto himself.

Jack’s doing the same, Harry sees from the corner of his eye, watching his brother slick himself up with lube. “So jealous, babe, he’s so good at this.” Jack’s let go of Harry’s cock now, but his fingers are resting low on his belly, ghosting through the fine hair there, stroking lightly.

He feels the sudden blunt pressure, and cants his hips up further. He tries to melt into Jack as Finn presses in, slowly, inch by inch, as Jack whispers things into his ear. Harry can’t focus on what he’s saying, really, but it’s encouraging and soft, something to focus on as he’s split in half.

Finn bottoms out, finally, stopping to let Harry adjust, and he’s leaning down to capture Harry’s mouth with his own. Harry leans up into it, and the angle is strange, but it’s nice anyway. Jack mouths wetly at the back of his neck, and paired with the sticky drag of Finn’s lips on his, Harry finds himself relaxing.

He opens his mouth to tell Finn to move, to do something, that he’s ready, but he can’t quite make words happen. Instead, he reaches up and grasps Finn’s shoulders, feeling the strain in them, and pulls frantically, hoping he gets the idea. He does, and with a soft curse, he pulls back slightly and pushes back in. Harry’s loses all his air on a gasp, and he hears Jack say, “again, Finn, come on, do it.”

“He’s so fucking tight, Jack, bloody hell.” Finn’s brow is furrowed as he pulls out a bit further and slams back in, hard this time, like he can’t help it. Harry shouts, lets Finn’s name fall from his mouth, and that’s all the incentive Finn needs to pick up the pace.

Jack strokes across Harry’s stomach where it’s quivering, petting him a few more times before finally dropping his hand back down to wrap around Harry’s cock. He strokes him like Harry needs it, now, not playing like before, thumb dragging over the tip every few strokes, just this side of too much.

Suddenly, Finn hauls him forward further, pushes his legs up, finds the perfect angle, slamming into him at a grueling pace. Harry throws his head back and comes, vision going white at the edges, spilling hot over Jack’s fist. His chest heaves with the effort of it. Jack strokes him a few more times and then lets go, hands reaching out to grip Finn’s hips.

“Come on, Finn, now,” he gasps, and Harry’s not sure how Jack sounds so wrecked just from watching them, just from Harry writhing in his lap. Finn very nearly comes on his brother’s command, something else Harry would like to spend some more time thinking about, later, when he’s not in the middle of this. Finn lets himself drop when he comes, his arms collapsing out from under him, his head falling on Harry’s chest.

They stay that way for a few moments. Harry closes his eyes and lets his senses float back to him, sucking in deep drags of air, trying to catch his breath. Finn raises his head finally, laughing lightly when he catches Harry’s gaze, wincing when he pulls out and sits up.

Harry shuffles to the side so that Finn can get to his brother. Jack’s chest is heaving, and he’s sweating from where his skin has been plastered to Harry’s back, and he’s fucking gorgeous like that. When Finn settles on Jack's other side, wrapping one arm underneath him and pulling him close, Harry’s pretty sure this is the picture he’d take for Nick, if he was that much of an arsehole.

Finn reaches down with his free hand, and it only takes a few quick pulls, Finn muttering into Jack’s ear, “love you, you idiot”, before Jack comes, too. Finn kisses him through it, and Harry’s close enough to see Finn’s tongue sweep into Jack’s mouth as it parts on a gasp. Finn doesn’t let their lips part until Jack is done shaking through it.

“Love you, too,” Jack says, after a few long moments, touching his lips to the side of Finn’s temple. “I brought you a fucking popstar.”

“Oi!” Harry croaks, trying to throw some heat into it and failing, “I’m still right here.” Jack throws an arm around Harry, pulling him between them on the bed.

“Alright, love,” Jack mutters, pressing his nose into Harry’s neck. On his other side, Finn throws a leg over Harry’s and bites lightly at his shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> //[tumblr](http://fortymaliks.tumblr.com)//[twitter](http://twitter.com/fortymaliks)//


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